Flutterby
by Goldberry
Summary: A fluttering of dusty wings. Collection of Bleach Drabbles. [Ichigo x Rukia]
1. Flutterby

Author's Notes: This is going to be a small collection of BLEACH one-shots. Better than clogging the site with all these small little drabbles, don't you think? Heheh. Ichigo/Rukia sprinkled throughout. Please enjoy.

Flutterby  
(Dedicated to Renfro Calhoun)

Run.

There's something trapped in his chest, fluttering to get out, beating with violent wings against his heart. The air comes to quickly, too shallow, it gets lodged in his throat and he gasps, a feeling between panic and fear beating a frantic rhythm with every pulse. He forces his legs to move, to beat against the pavement, the sound of his shoes against the concrete so loud and distant in his ears. He can't feel his arms, they are locked around her, crushing her with mindless protection. He can't think, he can't speak. Not after the blood.

The blood.

It had welled easily, too easily, for an avatar of death. One moment she was standing next to him, speaking, teaching. The next her frail body had been slammed against a brick wall of a terrace, her small form crumbling instantly as blood trickled down the side of her face. Just like that. With a flick of the Hollow's tail she had been caught off guard while directing him, cast into unconsciousness while he stood there, so shocked he hadn't been able to react right away.

The paralysis passed when he realized she wasn't going to stand up.

The Hollow hadn't stood a chance.

And now he was running, running towards his house, his father's clinic. Only now, when she was desperately injured, could he take her there honestly. He would kick open the door with a thundercloud for a face and lift her broken, bloody form like an offering, that wild thing trying to escape from his throat and form itself into words.

He would look his father in the eye and say, "This is Kuchiki Rukia. Save her." Leaving unsaid the inevitable connection, "Save _me_."

But for now, Rukia is bleeding and Ichigo can't think, can't speak.

Run.

The End


	2. Tomorrow

__

Author's Notes: Ichigo/Rukia introspective? Involves bunnies. Heheh.

Tomorrow

Ichigo was amused.

He would never outright admit it, of course, but had he been anyone else his lips might have curved slightly upwards, his eyes might have twinkled with silent laughter.

But he was Ichigo, and Kurosaki Ichigo did not do these things.

Instead, he leaned against the doorframe of the pet shop, his arms crossed like a barrier over his chest as he kept an eye on Rukia. She was playing with the baby bunnies they had seen while walking past the window, the little fluff balls wiggling their noses at her and making her smile.

She would never outright admit it, of course, but had she been anyone else she might have laughed joyfully, her expression might have been eased from its ritual seriousnes.

But she was Rukia, and Kuchiki Rukia did not do these things.

Instead, Ichigo waited a good ten minutes before straightening, glancing back at her as she rose from her crouch, her features rearranging themselves until she looked a better replica of his Rukia.

Their eyes met and he looked away.

"We'll come back tomorrow."

****

The End.


	3. A Frog In My Throat

Author's Notes: Another one. Indirect Ichigo/Rukia. Orihime angst? Is there such a thing?

A Frog In My Throat  
(Dedicated to PaintedTyrant)

Orihime coughs and then pats her throat with a sheepish smile as she turns to Rukia. She speaks with a gravelly sort of tone and Rukia peers up at her, wondering what's wrong. Orihime swallows.

"Ah, it's nothing!" She grins. "I just had a frog in my throat!"

Rukia's eyes widen and she puts a hand to her own neck, wondering how one got a slimy little reptile stuck in their throat. Surely she had not tried to _eat_ one? She had come to realize that Orihime ate a great many odd things, but _frogs_?

"I just need something to drink," Orihime continues, oblivious to the immense confusion she has caused. Rukia brightens.

"I can do it! Ichigo taught me!"

The smaller girl runs to a nearby soda dispenser as Orihime watches her put in her money, select a flavor, and pull out the cold can of liquid with a victorious smile and gleeful laugh.

The name _Ichigo _rings inside Orihime's head.

"See?" Rukia says, coming back to her, holding out the soda. She looks happy, and that name had slipped from her so easily.

But Orihime is not jealous and she knows she should be surprised, but she's not. Instead, she smiles and nods.

She sees quite a bit.

The End.


	4. The Alley

_Author's Note: Rukia kicks ass. Enough said. :)_

**The Alley**

"Hey, you there! What do you think you're doing?"

She stood in the entrance of an alleyway, one slender arm extended as she pointed at the group of thugs circling a small girl. They had stolen her small purse, intent just on being bullies. Rukia had seen them herd the child into the alley and had followed without a second thought.

Rukia didn't like bullies.

"Buzz off, lady," one of them replied, snarling at her. "We got business with this girl."

"Leave her alone," Rukia snapped, taking a step forward and dropping her schoolbag on the ground to free her hands. "She's just a child."

"Aaa, but _you're_ not," the leader drawled, eyes narrowing. He motioned to his cronies. "Get her, boys."

The tiny girl ran.

Rukia didn't.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?"

Rukia looked up into Ichigo's sour face and wondered about the flare of anger in his eyes, the set of his shoulders as he gazed at her bruised body. She raised a hand and wiggled her fingers.

"Nothing happened. This body just doesn't work the way I want it to."

Ichigo growled. "You look like you got thrown in a blender and you call it 'nothing'? What _happened_?"

She sat down on the edge of his bed gingerly, wincing as she hit a sore spot. "I thought they might hurt her, so I picked a fight."

For some reason, Ichigo's face lost its anger but tightened into an expression she couldn't read. "So they beat you up instead."

She shrugged. "It's alright." A smirk curved her lips. "They don't look much better."

For a moment, Ichigo simply looked at her, then he turned and left his room without a word, leaving her sitting there wondering if she had said something out of place. A minute later, he came back with a cold compress that he held gently against her cheek. She blinked in surprise at his tender action, despite the fact that his face could still have hammered nails.

"I'll be more careful next time," she told him, thinking he might be blaming himself. Surprisingly, Ichigo grinned.

"Yeah, because I'll be with you."

**The End.**


	5. A Little Birdie

_Author's Note: Got some symbolism here. A gold star to anyone who understands who the real birdie is. ;) _

**A Little Birdie**

"Just a little higher."

"Damn it, Rukia, could you hurry up?"

"If you'd stand a little _higher_ I'd be done by now."

Grumbling, Ichigo put his hand against the tree for balance and stood on tiptoe, giving a little more height to Rukia who was sitting on his shoulder, her shoes hitting his ribs as she strained upwards, reaching. The baby bird in her hands plopped into its nest happily, chirping as she put it back where it belonged. It must have fallen out while its mother was away and Rukia, showing her usual concern for cute things, wouldn't leave without making sure it was safe.

"There," she said, content. Ichigo gaze a long-suffering sigh and settled back on his heels, wrapping an arm around her knees to make sure she didn't slip off as he straightened.

"Good. Can we go now? I've got loads of homework."

"Aa," she replied, but instead of slipping down from her perch on his shoulder, she put an arm on his head as if he were an armrest and gazed up at the nest, something moving in her dark eyes.

Feeling the annoyed expression slip from his face, he spoke to her quietly. "It'll be alright, you know."

"Of course! I know that," she said, a little too quickly. He restrained another sigh and knelt down, letting her hop off of him, the pleats of her skirt brushing his cheek. He stood.

In the tree, a flap of wings announced the arrival of the momma bird and he smiled slightly despite himself. "See? He's going to be fine. He's got her to make sure he doesn't fall again."

Something eased in her expression and she glanced at him. "He does?"

He stilled, suddenly wondering what they were really talking about. His voice came softer than he would have liked. "Yeah, he does."

She turned away. "Ichigo! Didn't you say you had homework to do? Come on, let's go home." And she strode off, forcing him to catch up.

"Rukia," he growled, but he didn't mean it. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her.

He had to make sure she never fell.

**The End.**


	6. Chalkdust

_Author's Notes: Requested Ichigo/Rukia drabble. _

**Chalkdust**

"Ah, Rukia-chan! Might I have the pleasure of walking you home?"

Rukia paused in the process of slipping on her shoes to glance at Keigo. Usually, she walked home with Ichigo but it looked as if he had ditched her. Either that or he was in trouble again and was currently cleaning the erasers for their sensei.

Smiling in the sparkling way she had adopted for school, she adjusted her school bag. "Of course! I was just-"

"IDIOT!"

Rukia turned as Ichigo came running up, slightly out of breath and covered in chalk dust. Surprisingly, he wasn't yelling at her, but at Keigo, his eyebrows fairly twitching with annoyance.

"Geez, what the hell do you think you're doing, Keigo?" he grumbled, eyeing the other boy suspiciously. "Taking advantage of Kuchiki again?

Rukia blinked.

Keigo smiled innocently.

"Come on, Rukia," Ichigo huffed, striding off. Startled, she hurried after him, silently wondering why he had run all the way from their classroom.

She might have been surprised to learn that Keigo could have easily told her.

The End.


	7. Apocatastasis

_Author's Notes: Requested Ichigo/Rukia. Spoilers for Soul Society Arc. _

**Apocatastasis**

He couldn't sleep the first night they came back. Sitting there in his room that seemed suddenly small and unfamiliar, he could only watch as Rukia dreamed in his bed, her small body curled up in a way he had never seen before. Ever since her days in his closet, she had been a light sleeper, constantly on the alert for danger. Now she slept defensively, knees almost up to her chest, a serious look on her face.

It ticked him off.

They were home but nothing was the same. They had come back and she was there, with him again, but he couldn't seem to align himself, to realize that it was over and she was still alive. He didn't want to look at her and see what they had done to her, what her time in the white tower had done to her. She must have slept so fitfully there, forced to be ready at any moment to be taken off to her own execution. Ichigo wondered if she would ever dream easy again.

Frowning, he rose from his chair and crawled into bed with her. She woke instantly, indigo eyes wide and almost panicked, one hand reaching up to touch a collar that no longer graced her neck. His expression flattened and he touched her shoulder before she could say anything, his hand pushing against the curve of her collarbone like an anchor to reality.

"It's just me," he said quietly, maintaining eye contact until he was sure she had heard him. He dropped unto the bed, pulling her back down with him, her delicate frame tucking itself under his arm. She said nothing as his arm encircled her waist, pressing her more firmly against his side.

"Go to sleep," he told her, his own eyes drifting shut. "Everything's alright now." He hesitated only a moment before finishing, "I'm here."

Rukia exhaled softly. "I know."

They slept until well after dawn.

The End.


	8. Eggnog

__

Author's Notes: Requested Rukia introspective. Pre Soul Society arc.

Eggnog

There were things she was was going to miss about this world. Her time was running out and all she could do was stand there, drinking some horrible concoction that tasted like raw eggs and think about how much she wished she didn't have to leave it all behind.

Orihime was babbling with Tatsuki in the corner, arms waving wilding as she reenacted some crazy story. Ishida stood a few feet away, watching her with a blank expression that somehow said more than words. Keigo was muching on Christmas cookies while Chad watched him disbelieving. And as for Ichigo...

"I can't believe you actually like that stuff," he said incredulously, standing next to her with his hands in his pockets. She smiled slightly, disguising the motion by taking another sip of her drink, wondering why her eyes were prickling.

"I love it," she said quietly, and meant more than the eggnog.

**The End**


	9. Cowboy Up

_Author's Notes: Requested Ichigo/Rukia. _

**Cowboy Up**

There was nothing more amusing than seeing Rukia discover another modern day contraption, watching as she struggled to figure out reason and purpose from something totally alien to her. Leaning back against the railing watching her, he couldn't help but smile in his constrained way, arms crossed over his chest as she drifted by him, a small wave in his direction.

Today's amusement was the carousel in the mall, Rukia having seated herself astride a bucking stallion. She would have to pick _that_ one too. No demure little mares for a shinigami. He snorted. Not that the word "demure" could be used in relation to Rukia anyway. Heh. Well, he liked it that way anyway.

"Come on already," he told her as she went by again. "It's almost time for dinner."

"Just once more," she called, not budging an inch.

He scoffed. "You said that three minutes ago."

"I'm not lying this time."

He felt an eyebrow twitch. "Fine. _Once_ more and then we're going."

And spinning around in a world of painted horses and blurred faces, Rukia smiled.

The End.


	10. Open Window

_Author's Notes: My answer to a fanfiction challenge on LJ. Ichigo/Rukia. _

**Open Window**

He left the window open for her every night.

It wasn't out of habit, it was something he consciously did before he went to sleep. Yuzu bugged him about it, saying he was going to catch a cold. Karin thought he had finally gone crazy. Nothing they said deterred him. His fingers against the cool glass, he'd slide the pane over and look out at the star-painted night, wondering where she was and what she was doing. If she was on her way back to him.

Hhe had had to leave her in Soul Society, even after all they had gone through. But she had promised him, _Rukia_ had promised. The same Rukia that followed orders with mindless obligation and had never, in all the time he had known her, once let him down.

_I'll come to you. I promise. Just wait for me._

It had been a month since he had walked away from her, trusting her to fix the ends of her tattered and used life. He had no doubts that she would do it too. He just... He just wished he could be sure she was being taken care of. If there was one thing he had learned in all their adventures, it was that she silently worried about everyone except herself, downplaying her own heartache unconsciously, ignoring it as if it were trival.

He never wanted to see her cry again.

So he wanted the window to be open for her when she returned, like an open door welcoming her home. He had made up the bed in his closet, realizing once again how small she had to be to fit in there comfortably. Not that he was going to let her sleep there again. He had better places for her to be.

That night he lay in his bed, feeling a sort of odd tension in his chest, like a spring about to be unleashed. He couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning under the sheets and annoying himself.

It was only when he heard light steps on the windowsill that he understood why.

Her violet eyes shimmered at him as he sat up and she offered a small, wry smile.

"You waited," she said. For once he had no snappy comeback and could only ease the muscles in his face in exchange, as close as he ever came to a true smile.

"Yeah."

They stood there staring at each other, memories flashing across their irises, and then Ichigo held out his hand, an invitation.

"Close the window, idiot. It's getting cold."

**The End.**


	11. Mythos

Author's note: For xxpoisonivyxx. Please enjoy.

Mythos

There are times when he knows that what he is doing is crazy. Running along the rooftops of abandoned buildings, swinging a sword whose blade is as dangerous as its hilt, throwing around words like "quincy" and "shinigami". Even just a year ago, he would have thought it all nonsense, a myth, a fairytale of the delusional. He wonders why it is so easy to accept it now, when the only thing that's really changed is Rukia.

She's the reason for everything now. Coming into his life so abruptly, changing him, teaching him, nagging him, _saving him_. Still, it's easy to see that for an ordinary person, such things as soul burials and the painfully white horror of a Hollow's mask were overwhelming, the sole objects of tales told in the dark of night around campfires. Beyond those there was nothing accept vague notions of life and death and whatever lay after.

He's not so blinded now, no more gauzy veils of ghosts shading his eyes and distorting images like water mirrors. He sees past the mirage and the enchanted and realizes the right of what he is doing, the truth of it, the need. There are no magic tricks up his sleeves, no white rabbit. Just an annoying stuffed teddy bear and a punt-sized recovering shinigami.

She stands next to him as he plants the end of his sword against the pitiful soul's forehead, watching with the seriousness of one seeing her pupil perform admirably. There might be something else lurking in her face but he can't see it and even if he did, he wouldn't understand it.

Then there's just the cold stone of the alleyway and the night sky above gleaming with distant stars; and Rukia, the hidden swallowtail winging its way into his bedroom and into his heart.

"Very good," she says, the whisp of a satisfied smile.

And though he sees the butterfly, he ignores it, concentrating on her instead.

THE END.


	12. The Long Way Home

_Author's Notes: Spoilers up to manga chapter 170. My take on the end of the Soul Society arc. _

**The Long Way Home**

There was a battlefield between them, a river of blood and broken swords, and yet he could see only her. She stood yards away, white robes stained and ripped, the light of her last demon art fading from her hands as her eyes found his, dark violet and swirling with emotions that hit him like a bucket of cold water.

It was over.

Breathing heavily, muscles aching, he buried Zangetsu's point into the ground, bandaged arms throbbing, his whole body blood-splattered and protesting. His own pain was distant though when compared to the raw anguish on Rukia's face as she gazed at him, something quivering within her.

He grinned at her in an attempt to lighten the tension. "I told you I would save you."

What he didn't expect was the soft sound that left her lips, halfway between a hiccup and a sob. Lowering her head, she ran to him, throwing her slim arms around his waist and almost knocking him backwards; a tiny hurricane of ebony hair and thin features. The moment her body touched his, something raw and aching within his heart healed instantly, staggering him. Eyes wide, he threw her name to the wind.

"Rukia…"

Her head was buried against his chest, the ragged ends of his trench coat flapping wildly around her and all he could think was that she was much too skinny, hadn't they been feeding her?

"You're alive," she whispered tearfully. "Thank you."

The creases in his forehead eased and he circled an arm around her shoulders, breathing out every battle, every wound, and breathing in something new and fresh. Then his fingers brushed the collar around her neck and his hold on her tightened, making her look up at him.

It was hard to admit, even to himself, but he had missed those eyes.

"Idiot," he murmured roughly. "Of course I'm alive. You didn't think I would lose, did you?"

She sniffed and he realized that tears had been caught in her eyelashes. He hated it when she cried. It reminded him of the moment he had first seen her do so, hanging on that damn execution block before he'd freed her. She had been ready to give up then, to die quietly, to _leave him_.

He would erase that feeling from her if it took him forever.

She didn't answer him, just smiled slightly, heart-breakingly, her hands tightening on the folds of his coat.

"Ichigo…"

He tilted his head, calm and content, the feel of her skin under his fingers. "Hmm?

"Please, take me home?"

His eyebrows rose slightly and his breath hitched in his chest, almost hurting him. Home. Did she mean it? She wanted to go…with him?

Her head came to rest against him again, her voice shaking. "I want to go home. I want to go back." Her tone dropped, almost too low to hear. "Please, take me away from here…"

Closing his eyes, he slipped his other arm around her, unused to seeing her this way. He wanted to say something, to tease her, draw her out of this terrible pit of sorrow and guilt.

But it wasn't the time and he found he didn't have the energy. Bowing his head over her, he hugged her to him, feeling good and whole for the first time since that rainy night not so long ago.

"Rukia…" he said, and she felt his voice rumble under her hands. The pads of his fingertips brushed her cheek gently.

"Aa, let's go home."

**The End.**


	13. By the Gate of the White Way

_Author's Notes: Spoilers for Episode 22. Drabble!_

**By the Gate of the White Way **

The sun was setting in his eyes and he still couldn't see her. Not that he really expected to, of course, but he had thought he might see something, some sort of clue as to where she was being held, or even her brother. He didn't really stop to think what he would do if did see something worthwhile. After all, he was still on the outside of the wall, and she was still on the inside, awaiting death in a dark cell, maybe.

But, despite the apparent foolishness of sitting on the roof, eyes directed towards the inner court, he wasn't about to leave.

The gate had closed, but what did it matter? He was still going in, no matter what it took. He had come this far and he wasn't about to be stopped short so close to his goal. She was _in there_, somewhere. He could almost feel her, like a physical push on his chest, urging him.

_Hurry. Hurry._

His face tightened and his eyebrows drew together. "I'm coming for you…Rukia…"

_This time, I'll be the one to save **you**. _

**THE END.**


	14. The Sound of Happiness

_Author's Notes: Set after the Soul Society arc. IchiRuki with a little IshiHime._

**The Sound of Happiness**

Rukia's laughing.

It's a sound that at first seems odd and out of place, but then he realizes that's only because he's so rarely heard it. And _that's_ a damn depressing thought because laughter is the sound of happiness and it seems like she's had too little of that through all the years of her long existance.

But now Orihime is laughing and setting a wreath of wildflowers on Rukia's head, the makeshift crown slipping down over one violet eye comically. Rukia blinks and then smiles, not the sickenly sweet smile she used to use for school and temporary friends, but a real smile, slow and beautiful. Something in his chest hitches at the sight of it and he shifts uncomfortably on the bench, frowning. Ishida tilts his head at him with a knowing smirk and Ichigo wonders if he could punch him without Inoue noticing.

"You seem very _tense_, Kurosaki," Ishida says, a superior note in his voice. Ichigo grits his teeth. The bastard is _enjoying_ this! "You aren't worried about Kuchiki-san, _are you_?"

"Shut up," he growls, folding his arms over his chest. There is no way he's going to admit that taking Rukia to wide open spaces scares the hell out of him. After the events in Soul Society, he feels that she's never safe unless she's right next to him, within the circle of his arms and fingertips. Places with too many people make him nervous, too, his amber eyes searching for black uniforms and bared katanas. Rukia complains about his over protectiveness sometimes, but not very much. Maybe she still feels guilty about him coming to save her or some shit like that but he doesn't care, not as long as it keeps her well within eyesight.

He only feels complete when he holds her.

He might also be surprised that she knows this.

Crawling into his bed late that night after the house quiets, she lets him fold his arms around her, pulling her firmly to his side as he breathes in the scent of her hair, his whole body relaxing for the first time since waking. She knows that one day this fear will leave him and he'll no longer look over her shoulder, but until then, she doesn't think it's so bad that he needs her so much. Not when she can press her cheek against his chest and fit her head under his chin as if they were only two puzzle pieces finally turned the right way. At that moment, the truth is very clear.

She only feels complete when he holds her.

**THE END**


	15. The Rules of Dating

_Author's notes: IchiRuki. Set after the series. Requested on LJ._

**The Rules of Dating**

Rukia seemed to have it decided that "dating" meant she could safely strip in front of him and he wouldn't bat an eye. _After all, we're dating_, she would say knowledgably, her dress hitting the floor as she took off for the shower, oblivious to his red face and his inability to reply with anything other than something that sounded like a strangled goose.

It was only when the door had been shut for several minutes that he was finally able to yell out, "KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON, DAMMIT!"

And then that little testosterone-driven voice in his head would smugly ask, _But do you REALLY want her to keep her clothes on?_ Then he'd turn back to his homework, grumbling to himself as he stared at his math problems, wondering why they looked like another language.

When Rukia came back, she'd be humming to herself, fresh and clean, and would inexplicably crawl into bed next to him, propping her head up on her elbows as she watched him do the work she should be doing as well. She might even fall asleep there, her head descending to his shoulder, her hair brushing his chin, the too big neck of her pajamas baring one smooth shoulder.

He smiled slightly to himself, knowing she wasn't aware of him.

Maybe he could get used to this dating thing.

And not just because of the stripping deal, he thought hastily, but because her small body fit perfectly against him, and that was something, too.

**The End. **


	16. The Invisible Jewlery From Mars

_Author's Notes: CRACK! IchiRuki. XDXD And oh so fun. If you're offended by the topic of tampons, I suggest you don't read. _

**The Invisible Jewelry From Mars**

"Ichigo, what are tampons?"

In the middle of taking a drink, Ichigo choked on his water and launched into a coughing fit. Rukia patted him on the back absently, obviously still thinking about her question.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME SOMETHING LIKE THAT?" he shouted when he could breathe, his face slightly red. She looked at him like he was a complete idiot, crossing her arms over her chest in a manner that said she was annoyed with him.

"Because one of the other girls asked if I had any and I didn't know what they were," she grumbled, seemingly frustrated with her lack of knowledge. She turned her head towards him again. "So, what are they?"

Now, Ichigo, despite being male, knew probably more than he needed to about… womanly functions… due to living over a clinic and having two sisters who left their girly magazines lying about. However, he was not about to explain something like this to _Rukia_ who would most likely not understand and he'd have to, like, draw _diagrams_ or something, and…

Ichigo shuddered.

"It's a girl thing. Go ask Orihime," he said gruffly. She huffed at him but got up from the bench and started walking to where Orihime usually ate lunch. After a moment though, Ichigo realized his mistake.

Orihime, the same girl who made up fantastic stories about _sporks_…

An image of Rukia coming home happily wearing a necklace of tampons made his blood run cold.

_See, Ichigo? She told me they were actually jewelry that can make you invisible if you…_

He bolted off the bench after her.

"Wait, Rukia! Don't listen to her! DON'T LISTEN!"

Maybe diagrams wouldn't be too bad after all.

**The End. **


	17. Inertia

_Author's Notes: Spoilers up to manga chapter 176. Watch out for Ichigo's potty mouth. XDXD_

**Inertia**

_Move, damn it._

But he can't and he knows that if he tries he's going to die faster. There's a numbness in his abdomen that speaks of the cold-ringed edges of something fatal. Despite this, he somehow manages to lift his head, panting desperately as his eyes find her there, in the clutches of that damned Captain that Ichigo aches to defeat more than anyone else. He's holding her in front of him, her small body limp against his hold on the collar around her neck.

She is still a prisoner.

And he can only watch, half in terror, half in rage, as the traitor speaks calm words reeking of betrayal and secrets and so much fucking _ignorance_ that he wants to scream for him to stop. The look in Rukia's eyes is killing him, they're wide and shimmering as if she's come to some sudden realization, standing on a cliff of the heart and looking over the edge to find there's no bottom. Ichigo orders his body to get up. _Get up!_

But he can't, and his fingers dig painfully into the ground. He's never been able to save anyone. Even Rukia, in her awkward body, so naïve and wise both at once, has protected him in her own way.

"Why…" he chokes, "Why can't I…?"

_And he's waking in the cold, bitter rain, his blurry vision resolving into the silent form of his mother's hand in front of his face. It's strange, but in his memory, his mother's hand is perfect, uncalloused, soft, refined, gentle. The hand that holds his as they cross the street and strokes his hair when he cries._

He sits up slowly and the rest of her comes into view, her body tangled in rain water and oh so still. It's so silent there, in the rain. There's no sound.

Not even breathing.

And now he's laying in the rain again, breathing water, as Rukia turns her back on him, hiding those tears from him with an angry voice. She's trying, and so is he, to stand up, to follow her, but his body refuses to rise even though he can hear her getting farther and farther away. He can only watch as she steps through the wooden doors of Soul Society, already so distant he's not even sure she's really there. She looks back only once, right before she disappears and he wants to call out to her, but even his voice fails him.

Instead, he screams her name in his head, brokenly.

"Rukia…!"

All his life, he's never been able to protect the people he cares about. Despite his best efforts, they always get hurt. His mother, Yuzu, Karen, Chad, Inoue… even that damned Quincy… He's dragged them all into this and now…

He grits his teeth.

Now he's just going to lay there while Rukia gets hurt? While she's tossed aside like a useless rag doll?

_Fuck that. _

All his life, he's never been able to protect the people he cares about. Until now.

"Zangetsu," he says to the shadow at the corner of his eye. "I'm going."

A voice echoes in his head, dark and familiar. "I'm with you."

Ichigo is done with staying still. It's time to move.

**The End. **


	18. Redivivus

_Author's Notes: Spoilers for recent manga chapters up to 197. Happy Birthday, Loycey. _

**Redivivus**

The night was cool but not cold as they sat on the roof of his house, gazing at everything and nothing, talking about anything except what they should've been. They'd escaped his family's prying ears for the moment but Ichigo knew there would be questions in the morning or, heaven forbid, dating tips from his father. The potential embarrassment was not enough to make him think of sending Rukia elsewhere, though. Not that she'd have gone anyway, noisy brat.

"Ichigo."

"Yeah?" He looked over at her and wondered how it could feel like she'd never left. Sitting there, talking with her, it was as if the last few weeks were simply a dream and wherever Rukia was, that was reality.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you."

He knew what she was referring to and it irritated him that she'd bring it up, especially when he'd been thinking so fondly of her just a moment ago. Then again, that was Rukia, always punching him in the gut when he least expected it.

Ichigo almost smiled. "It's alright now."

A flash of confusion crossed her face and she tucked a strand of inky hair behind her ear. "It is?"

He leaned back against the roof and looked up to the sky. "I know what I have to do."

There was a moment of blessed silence and then, smugly, "I guess I straightened you out then."

He sent a glare her way. "YOU straightened me out? I had it all under control, you little-"

"Hah!" she snorted, but surprisingly she didn't finish that thought because her face softened and she smiled a little. "Well, anyway, I'm glad to see you, Ichigo."

He blinked, startled, and then his eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger at her suddenly innocent expression. "You're not getting my bed, midget."

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. "Damn it, I was sure that would work."

"Try batting your eyelashes next time. That's what they do in those manga you love to read."

Rukia sniffed disdainfully but refrained from commenting. Instead, she lay down on her back and, after a moment, he joined her, arms folded behind his head. It seemed forever since he had simply sat and relaxed. He still felt the weight of his responsibilities of course but, somehow, with her there, they didn't feel so impossibly heavy.

"Ichigo?"

His eyebrow twitched. "What?"

"Can we get soda from the machine tomorrow?"

Something warmed in his chest and he closed his eyes, a contented expression on his face. Some things never changed.

"Yeah, we can get soda from the machine tomorrow."

_Cause everything's alright now._

_We're together._

**The End.**

Redivivus: latin _come back to life_


	19. In the Beginning

_Author's Notes: Uhm. It's weird but I have nothing to say!_

**In the Beginning **

In the beginning, there was nothing but blood - the memories of blood, the shedding of blood, life blood. Her sword rose and fell with cool precision, the aristocractic line of her back a straight line against the darknening skies filled with white, grasping hands and the unearthly howls of Hollows. She walked along rooftops, stood on telephone poles, the guardian of oblivious souls who would never even know they were being protected. This was the way of shinigami, to fight without an audience, to die without witnesses.

Then she met _him_.

Now there's a spot of color in her world, a splash of orange against a dreary backdrop that she registers only briefly as she slices the Hollow in front of him with a short-lived cry. Straightening her knees, she sheathes her sword with a pristine click, turning to glance back at him to gauge his injuries. He had none, and so she turned and disappeared back into the fabric of the world.

After all, it wasn't like he could see her anyway.

She wings her way into his bedroom that night, leaving a trail of butterfly dust. Everything's about to change but she can only see duty and obligation and regret.

And that bright splash of orange against a cloudy sky full of rain.

**The End**


	20. Carry the Waves

_Author's Notes: Spoilers up to chapter 180ish. Requested on LJ. _

**Carry the Waves**

You can't hear the waves from your prison, that spiraling expanse of white that towers above your world. It's strange because you wake dreaming of seas and rivers and water lapping at the shore. It's a river that stays in your thoughts, wide and choppy, reflecting the gray of clouds overhead. And there's a boy standing on the bank, hands in his pockets as he looks out over the surface and pretends to remember nothing. His orange hair is the only thing bright in the memory.

And it's not even a _memory_ because you've never seen that particular stance before, that quiet determination in his shoulders as he gazes upon the thing that once destroyed him.

It's not raining in your dream.

You wonder if he can hear the waves from where he is, if he carries them with him in the corner of his mind. Or if, perhaps, you've muted the sound and replaced it with steel clashing and fire burning. You're going to die but you still hope that if you could just erase that water...

You pocket that fragile wish and look out your lonely window, searching for some color in all that white.

**The End.**


	21. The World Changer

_Author's Notes: Spoilers up to manga chapter 213. Run-on sentences galore, my pretties!_

**The World Changer**

Rukia is lying flat on her back, breathing shallowly, blood on dark, dark cloth and Orihime is sweating and shaking and light is flaring. There's a hum in your ears like electricity and you know you should recognize it but you're too busy watching Rukia's chest rise and fall, rise and fall. Renji is standing by your shoulder and he's tired, you can feel it, but he's watching just as intently. He's not counting though, not yet, but you do because this dream has played out many times before and you _have_ to, before you become used to death.

And then you don't see even Orihime anymore, just the golden glow and that low note like a symphony tuning a million miles away as blood evaporates and skin mends. Rukia's body pulls itself together and you can almost forget that she was ever in danger, almost, and that she won't keep on being in danger, almost.

And that you can't save her. Almost.

Death opens it's eyes and they are so dark they're purple and she winces before catching your sentinel gaze and grinning with all the superior confidence of that noble brother of hers and you want to shout at her until she realizes the truth. There will be more blood and sweat and shaking and bright halos of light. More cold pavement and rainy nights and white masks that break and rebuild, break and rebuild.

But you can't open your mouth because you're a fool who thinks that, with her still breathing, you can become what she sees in you. That boy who can see and cut and fight. The man who protects.

The price is a little more blood on dark, dark cloth. She gives it.

Because she is, in the end, a world changer.

You do not forget.

**The End.**


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